It Ain't Your Mom's Book Club

Books bring people together. All sorts of communities--prisons, colleges, talk shows, cities--have figured this out and have instituted reading programs. In 2002, I read The Laramie Project along with other University of Maryland students, faculty, and staff.

In 2007, San Diego instituted its One Book One San Diego program. I read--and was profoundly affected by--Enrique's Journey.

The 2010 book will soon be chosen. You can vote by going here.

The candidates:

Dreamers of the Day (Mary Doria Russell)

Outcasts United (Warren St. John)

Song Yet Sung (James McBride)

For Sale: '99 Chrysler Sebring--low miles!

(The guts.)

(The very small working area.)

(The finished product.)

Day Two of Larry and Michelle's Extravaganza of Fun.

The Green Dragon's exterior driver-side door handle has finally been replaced, nearly a year after it broke off. I'm embarrassed it took so long. It makes you think about what people can put up with, adjust to, and/or make peace with. For me, it was climbing over the passenger seat, despite laughter from others.

We consulted these instructions. But only at the start. Four steps in, when my dad was completing the steps quicker than I could read, we decided to blaze our own handle-installation trail, and do it ourselves. And by "ourselves," I of course mean my dad. I think his thirty-one years as a dentist--in which he'd worked on third molars and in other inscrutably tiny spaces--were practice for snapping that white clip back onto the rod.

The whole process took an hour and a half. Which isn't bad considering the instruction's author took five hours his first time.

The car will be on Craig's List shortly. Any takers?

Cat Food

My father was visiting a friend a couple days ago, and the friend offered him his leftover Nutri-system food. My father, being a Panik (well, actually, being a Check) couldn't turn down something free.

This evening, we thought we'd give it a try.

We started with the soy crisps, which were rancid. I doubt they tasted good when they were fresh, but these had definitely been around too long.

Ever fearless, we pushed on with the pot roast, which my father eloquently described as "soft beef jerky."

From there, we took a break from entrees and tried the cheesy sweet potatoes. Which looked like baby food and smelled like a household cleaner.

The tuna casserole was the absolute worst. It looked, smelled and--as much as I can surmise--tasted like cat food.

Only the beef and pasta was remotely edible. As my dad said, it's pretty darn tough to mess up pasta.

Then we made the best decision of all, which was to go pick up sandwiches. When we got back, the kitchen still stunk of cat food. Later, though, I heated up some apply cobbler (homemade, NOT Nutri-system) and it seemed to clear out the funk.

Coming soon: I revisit and blog about my favorite childhood snack: the peanut butter and butter sandwich. Ah, youth.

"Sunnyside" by Glen David Gold

Glen was my screenwriting professor at UCSD, and I was so happy when "Carter Beats the Devil" came out a few years ago. But I was slightly underwhelmed by "Sunnyside." I think you have to know more about Hollywood's history to fully understand this book. But I just couldn't bother my brother with incessant phone calls (Who's Mary Pickford? Was Charlie Chaplin spotted in a couple hundred places across the US simultaneously? Why are screenplays so difficult to get produced?). But even if I didn't understand everything, and probably missed out on some of the book's joys, it was still an enjoyable read.

Everybody's Got an Opinion

...and I'm not even talking about healthcare or Jon and Kate plus their eight.

I'm referring to the National Book Award. You can vote for your all-time favorite award winner (as long as your favorite is one of six pre-selected choices).

For my own personal (writing) interests, I like that four of the six candidates are short story collections. The mighty short story.

I am ashamed (am I ashamed? Maybe I'm humbled) to admit that I've read works by five of these six authors, but only portions of three of these award-winning books--Cheever's, O'Connor's, and Welty's.

Flying Front Kick

Our Mini Cooper is not only my first brand-new car, but my first car with a manual transmission. Bryan has been teaching me how to drive a stick shift on his car these past few months. But it wasn't until Friday that I first drove on a freeway.

I'd expected Bryan to be in the passenger seat for the drive home from the dealership to give me advice. Except they offered us a paltry sum for the Green Dragon (it may not having a lot going for it, but it has low miles!), so Bryan drove it home while I took the Mini. I drove seventy miles by myself, including stop-and-go freeway traffic.

Two days earlier, I'd met with Lelani, the head of United Through Reading's Transitions Program. At one point, she showed me pictures of her two sons, and mentioned that they participate in martial arts. She said it was great for their confidence and self-reliance, saying her younger son had become much more outgoing and assertive after beginning Taekwondo.

Today, Bryan and I zipped all over San Diego in the Mini, with me at the wheel. It was like I was going for a black belt, and performing all the skills.

Mini Arrival

I think we could fit four of these in our garage, although one is more than enough fun.